


Orchids of Self

by booktick



Series: A Taste for Healing [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Falling In Love, Implied/Referenced Incest, Nostalgia, i guess it's a bit of domestic fluff, post-adwd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 19:32:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12306183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booktick/pseuds/booktick
Summary: Now things were different.Jaime was different.She was different.





	Orchids of Self

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own none of this franchise.
> 
> A/N: This is meant to be set post-ADWD but with an AU twist sort of I guess. A sequel to the Cersei fic, "Peace on Blood".

* * *

"And what of the Queen?" Brienne had asked.

"The Queen? What does Margaery Tyrell have to do with anything?" He questioned back.

"No, not her. Your sister..." She attempted again.

"She isn't the Queen anymore." Jaime replied, "She's mother to the King. I know that must be difficult to disguinish with all the crowns being passed around."

Brienne did not lift her head to look at the golden mop of Jaime Lannister's though the curls were in her way no less. She had to pull herself away from him, step around and go to a bookshelf. It had to appear far more interesting to her, the most interesting, than Jaime Lannister and his quips. A book by some Maester was chosen as her fingers gripped it and pulled it from the shelf. She opened it to further develop the idea of no interest.

"I am not returning to King's Landing," Jaime spoke, "if that was what you were getting at."

"I was not getting at anything." she turned to face him, "I was only reminding you of your duties."

"Ahh, my duties." Jaime nodded, knowingly. 

"Don't do that." Brienne's frown deepened "Don't pretend you agree with me." 

"What would you have me do? March to King's Landing and ask her to kneel? I'm sure the sight would have made even the proud Ned Stark laugh. If he had the head for it anyway."

"That is ill, Jaime. Ned Stark was-"

" _Honorable, I'm sure._ I'm sure his wife appreciated his _honor_ when he knelt between her legs but this is not the time to speak of honor." 

"That is cruelty, Ser." She murmured, to herself really.

Jaime had pulled himself from her as well. His steps were heavier and his heels scuffed the floor as he went to a chair. He sat with a huff of his own though his had been far more vocal than hers. His head lifted once more, eyelids slid down a fraction and his bitterness had gone. He ran his fingers through the gold upon his head, it had grown since last cut. Brienne had not been merciful then.

"I _am_ here. I am _here_ , with _you_ ," he began "is that not enough?"

Brienne turned back to the bookshelf and slid the text in her hand back into place. It made the sofest of thumps against wood. Her fingers, thick and calloused, remained at its' spine. She could have throttled him and the room and the Maester's scriptures but she did not.

"What _more_ must I do," he whispered "Brienne?"

There he went again, saying her name...like _that_. Jaime knew better and he did it anyway. She swallowed and did not lift her gaze upon his. She sat beside him in a similar chair, her steps had not been as graceful or as kind as Queen Margaery's and he loved her for it. The words were said to one another quite some time ago and, yet, were always left unspoken between them.

"What Cersei does is out of my hands." He added.

"It must have been hard when you were with her since you only have the one then."

"Now who's being cruel?" 

"That was hateful," she agreed "My apologies, Ser Jaime."

" _Ser_? Brienne, really." Jaime turned his head away and back, eyes shut.

She watched him, as she had before. He had such a wear to him, his face had aged since they first met. He was not the dashing, smug knight in a white cloak. Even his fighting had changed since then. He fought with rage. He fought with cold. And he fought with hate. Before, it had been for Cersei, his twin, his lover, always for her. He would have died for her then, Brienne was sure of it. But now...

Now things were different.

Jaime was different. 

 _She_ was different. 

The time for passion had passed when he tore his golden hand from Cersei's breast to hold Brienne's hand in the pit at Harrenhal. The bear had been left forgotten in the pit and in the pit it would remain. She could have thought of all the things Cersei must have said to him and she would never ask. Jaime had looked dead to the world when he arrived, at least now he had his smiles. Brienne cherished them as if they were a a gift just for her. All of the people in this world could laugh at her, they could bite the flesh from her and hang her for treason but she would turn her scarred cheek to them all for one of Jaime's smiles.

It was almost like dreaming, for it was  _Jaime_ _Lannister_ she dreamed of.

"Why are you staring?" Jaime asked.

She blinked and her vision cleared. Jaime had his eyes opened and stared back at her. She had no idea how much time had passed between them both. There had been soft patters of rain from outside when it had been cloudy by the bookshelf. She felt a warmth spread over her knuckles and looked to it, much better than having to keep eye locked with Jaime's own. There were, upon her knuckles, fingertips that graced her battered flesh. She did not understand at first, until it was Jaime's arm flexed in the corner of her eye. It was this that had her realize it was Jaime Lannister who touched her hand in such a way. 

"Staring," she repeated "Staring at your foolish behavior."

"I wasn't pouting from your scolding, Brienne," he pulled his hand away and she was sad for it "I am...worn." As if the word never crossed his mind before.

"You should rest then. You're no use to anyone if you're swaying about."

"I do not sway, Brienne of Tarth." His lips tugged for a moment.

Brienne forced herself to stand, her heart raced--out of being in constant motion, she told herself. Out of the corner of her eye, he watched her back. She refused to let him win this battle of nerves. She straightened her back and walked. Her steps to the door did not stop her from seeing Jaime's smile in her head.

"Of course not, Ser Jaime."

* * *


End file.
